


We Get What We Get (Not What We Deserve)

by KumaTheCatalyst



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, is there any other way to get a boyfriend, midnight flirting, they meet earlier mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KumaTheCatalyst/pseuds/KumaTheCatalyst
Summary: Life is just too much and too cold and too silent, and Steve just wants everything to stop.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	We Get What We Get (Not What We Deserve)

Life is just too much and too cold and too silent, and Steve just wants everything to stop.

The trees around him loom, and he walks past them with fingers scraping over their trunks, he can feel the echoes in his head back through the weeks, months, years. Heavy things, loud things, they make him dizzy and his eyes dry and his lips crack and they ring inside his head and he just wants to scream but at the same time he can’t stand to break anything else.

His friends are no longer his, his parents elsewhere, and Steve doesn’t know what he wants to do. That familiar ache, like a hole in his center, presses on his lungs and ribs. He’s forgotten what it’s like being alone. No, he’s just ignored the fact that he’s never not been lonely. His breathing is shallow, but he couldn’t panic even if he wanted to.

The laugh that erupts from his throat cracks before it can fully form, shakes his teeth and burns his tongue. Nothing changes, he’s never learned no matter how many times the world showed him.

There’s dark stains along the roots of the trees, and Steve can’t tell if they’re actually there or not. He debates crouching down, running his fingers over it…he clenches his hands into fists and keeps going.

His thoughts turn desperately to Nancy but there’s nothing there anymore but ice creeping up his neck and tracing his temples. Steve knows he messed up, he knows he’s a bad person. Even now, he thinks about her words and Barb’s disappearance and how barely two days later she had Byers sleeping in her room. He knows he should end it. He knows he’s a coward. He knows Barb didn't run away.

At the edge of his vision, there’s a light breaking through the trees.

Steve stills, startled. He’s nowhere near anyone’s house - he’s surprised to recognize he’s walked all the way to the quarry - and just stares. The trees reach downwards and the roots seem to creep forward and there shouldn’t be any danger but he forgot his bat and - 

It’s a car he doesn’t recognize. In a town like Hawkins, that alone makes him wary. It’s headlights are bright overlooking the forest and the car’s a dark blue, possibly. He can hear someone walking, hear the click of a lighter. He should go home, he doesn’t have the energy to talk, still has fresh injuries he hastily wrapped after fighting an alien with his girlfriend and the boy he thought she was cheating on him with. He shouldn’t be staring out towards whoever was there like a freak, in clothes covered in dirt and blood. Stepping back proves to be the wrong decision as the foliage crackles loudly.

“Fuck off, whoever you are.” an unfamiliar voice snarls, wary, and there’s a long, heavy moment of silence.

“Go lurk somewhere else,” the voice continues but Steve’s legs suddenly ache and exhaustion punches him behind his eyes so he just stumbles out from the trees, away from the light stinging his face. He doesn’t even look at whoever is standing there, preferring to collapse near the edge of the quarry. He fluffs his jacket out and tucks up his legs, and stares out into the dark with his heartbeat throbbing in his ears.

“Are you shitting me, you fucking deaf?!” he finally takes a glance up, tired brown eyes meeting angry blue that is just as tired despite the clenched jaw. The other boy has blood on his shirt and his forearm pressed into his side, a beer in hand and a cigarette in the other. There’s a pause, maybe Steve does look as pathetic as he feels if this stranger who was so intent on punching his face in a second ago seems at a loss.

“You’re new.” It’s a stupid, obvious thing to say. The other boy just continues to stare at him, before sitting beside him and tossing his beer can off the cliff. 

“No shit,” The other boy smokes his cigarette angrily, his shoulders hunched in on himself. Steve wonders if he’ll be attending Hawkins High. “you win a prize.”

“Excuse me, have you seen this face? I _am_ the prize thanks.” It slips out of his mouth warm and unfamiliar. The boy beside him chokes mid-smoke, laughing and coughing and throwing the short stub off the edge as well.

“Sure, let’s go with that Pretty Boy!” It’s only now that Steve really looks at him. His open shirt, blonde curls, his jacket...the blood peeking out from where his shirt rides up. The boy leans in and Steve forces his eyes up to meet ice blue. “So what the fuck happened to give you that?” He waves his hand in his general direction.

“You just gestured to all of me.” he jokes dryly. He hasn’t really taken in all the damage, but he shifts away and zips his coat up anyways. He can’t think of an excuse for alien plant monsters and alternate dimensions right now.

“That’s cause all of you is looking pretty roughed up, Princess.” Again with the nicknames, and the warmth spreading in Steve’s gut grows despite the exhaustion and the fact that his hands won’t stop shaking.

“Tell that to your ribs hot shot.” It goes quiet, Steve shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve kept walking and kept to himself but _goddammit he felt lonely_ , Nancy didn’t even notice when he left and-

The boy shifts, and Steve lets out a startled noise when a warm, muscular arm wraps around his shoulders. “Fuck,” he says, Steve really needs to get his name at some point, “You hit right where it hurts Pretty Boy.” 

“We can’t all have muscles the size of someone’s head,” Steve says, but they’ve both lost any previous tension. Steve suspects the other boy’s just as tired as he is.

“Well, we can’t all be pretty, pretty princesses.”

“It’s good then that people as ugly as you exist, you know, to balance it out.”

“Hey now, I’ll have you know I have chicks tripping over themselves for a piece of this.”

“The guys too?”

“Well who could resi-” The blond cuts himself off, staring down silently at where Steve has melted into his side. As if he’s just realized the position they’re in. Maybe Steve should be worried, terrified. He isn’t. Steve has gotten away with passive flirting, getting handsy in the locker rooms, even other boys wanting to ‘practise for their girlfriends’. Any rumors this could create would just seem like the new kid couldn’t take a joke. 

“Billy.” He’s jolted out of his thoughts as the other boy, Billy, tucks him in closer. The taller boy relaxes further into the embrace. Wondering how his life went from an apology, to losing his popularity, to monster hunting, to cuddling a unknown hot guy on the edge of a cliff and flirting like the intro to some cheap porno. 

“Steve.” he murmurs, feeling more tired yet more awake now then he’s felt all week. They continue to sit there, until the sky begins to brighten as the sun starts to peek over the horizon. Billy drives him home, doesn’t comment on the large house and rich neighbourhood. He seems to only focus on the bloody clothes and tired eyes and Steve gives him a hesitant smile when he gets to his door. The other boy gives him a smile back, before it twists into a playful smirk and a wink. Steve laughs breathlessly as the car speeds off, and goes inside to shower, rewrap his bandages and get ready for the day.

It’s nice to be seen.

\-------------

Steve doesn’t see Billy again for months. He _does_ however overhear his neighbour, Mrs. Grames, talking about a new family visiting to look at the housing market and that will probably be moving in this summer. 

Nancy is still a mess, is still distraught, he doesn’t blame her. He looks down at the new camera he bought for Byers, thinks of warm arms and cigarettes and ice creeping up his neck and monsters that won’t leave his dreams. Thinks of Tommy and Carol and a lost title that doesn’t really change how alone he’s _always_ been. He remembers how he slipped the blonde boy a paper with his name and number, how Billy calls him once a week using pay phones and they talk until it runs out. 

He still thinks he’s a bad person. Still _knows_ he is but, he clings to a memory of when he was younger, when his mom still smiled at him. When his parents still came home for his birthday. Still remembers whining for another ginger snap because he had been _good_ and deserved one and the nanny, Maryanne, giving him a soft smile. 

“You get what you get! It has nothing to do with what you deserve!” she had scolded him, before dramatically glancing to the dining room and giving him a wink. He managed to sneak another cookie before bedtime and she had ruffled his hair, smiling knowingly. 

Steve wasn’t a good person, he didn’t deserve a happy ending. He didn’t deserve his father’s approval or a girlfriend like Nancy Wheeler or to go to college or a mysterious blonde boy willing to listen as he rambles on and on. Yet even so, as he smokes a cigarette and sits in his too quiet, too empty house, Steve makes his choice.

He breaks up with Nancy the day they give Jonathon his new camera. He apologizes to Jonathon first, and it’s telling when that visibly surprises her. After that, he pulls her aside and apologizes for not noticing her struggle, for not taking her best friend’s disappearance seriously, for all the things he has and hasn’t done. Steve takes in one last, long look at the girl he used to love, and found he didn’t love her anymore. Not in the same way at least. He had just been so excited that someone had seen him, had looked at him, had noticed _him_.

“I’m sorry for the bullshit.” He murmurs softly, and leaves before she can say anything else. Inwardly, he wishes Jonathon the best. After all, he knows better than anyone else what it was like to be caught in the whirlwind that is Nancy Wheeler.

It’s Christmas Eve. Steve is sitting alone eating fried chicken and watching reruns of any movie he can find that isn’t a Holiday Special. He may be a sucker for romance and cartoons, but even he needs a break after watching the third retelling of ‘A Christmas Carol’ in a row (this time, the Mickey Mouse edition). The phone rings, and he scrambles to get it, stumbles into the wall. 

“Hello? Harrington residence?” It’s reflex at this point, but there’s still a chance it’s his parents on the other end. He relaxes as he hears a familiar snort.

“Shouldn’t you be out partying and being a spoiled princess?”

“Shouldn’t you be out partying, showing all the boys and girls a good time?” He teases, twisting the phone cord between his fingers.

“I was going for subtle you know? Have them wondering where I am, make them desperate for me.” Steve snorts.

“There is not a single subtle thing about you hot shot.” The nicknames have only grown, the teasing, the flirting. He leans back against the wall and can’t fight a dopey grin.

“Let me dream Pretty Boy!” 

“Only if they’re about me.” 

There’s a breath of silence. They both love to bicker, to flirt and argue. Sometimes they talk about important things, serious things, but not often. It’s hard to ignore it though, when they’re both sitting on the phone with only the other to talk to, when normal teenagers their age would be enjoying relatives visiting, parties and Christmas dinners. 

“He wants me to have a family dinner tonight.” Steve winces. 

“He's still not letting you cook?” 

Billy had it hard enough trying to adapt to his father remarrying without the man pushing him to treat Susan like his own mother. Sure Maxine is a ‘pain in the ass’ but it’s been easy enough for him to at least tolerate her with Steve to offer advice or just listen to him complain when she does something stupid. 

“Not when Susan’s around to do it. Was able to try that ginger snap recipe you told me about though, Shitbird liked it.” His voice sounds gruff but Steve can detect a hint of fondness in his tone.

“Good luck, make sure you have enough snacks for after.” Susan, for all she tried, was not nearly as good in the kitchen as Billy. “Oh! Offer to stir the gravy and then season it properly when no one’s looking! Everything’s edible when covered in enough gravy.” Billy cackles as Steve continues to give ideas to save Christmas Dinner, getting more and more outrageous until they’re both breathless with laughter.

“I wish I could hate her.” It’s quiet, almost inaudible through the phone. Steve gets it. He’s never asked what happened to Billy’s mom, but he can guess. 

“I haven’t heard from my parents in two months. They sent me a company Christmas card.” They sit there in silence for a bit, wasting precious seconds and quarters but neither willing to hang up on the other. Steve hates his most recent resolution sometimes, it’s hard and it hurts and he just wants to hang up and not say it but…

“When you come to Hawkins...do you wanna go on a date?” It’s stupid, it’s too soon after Nancy, he’s only met this boy once and they don’t even know if the house in Hawkins is the one his dad decided on and yet-

“You’re paying Princess.” He couldn’t stop a snort if he tried, and if it sounded a little choked well, that was his business.

They talk a bit longer, bickering and giggling until Billy has to go and then Steve is left standing there by the phone. He’s still grinning, leftover laughter tickling his ribs and feeling like he’s in one of those cheesy romantic comedies his mom used to put on. 

It’s the best Christmas he’s ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> So! I've been working on how to write snippets, so I went through my older random one offs and found this! I finished this in a snippet format for practise, but if people really want me to add more to it I absolutely will!
> 
> I love comments they make me all fuzzy and my brain go brrrrrr


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